


D.C. Regained

by WPAdmirer



Series: Chicago Stories I [9]
Category: ER, X-Files - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WPAdmirer/pseuds/WPAdmirer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Carter and Walter Skinner get reacquainted in D.C.</p>
            </blockquote>





	D.C. Regained

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from The characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC. Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately.
> 
> SPECIAL THANKS: to Crysothemis and KiMeriKal for beta reading.

From the light coming through the windows Walter figured it must be mid-afternoon. His thoughts still blurred by sleep, he reached out for John Carter and touched cool sheets, alone pillow. He raised his head and saw that his clothes were gone from the floor next to the bed. He rose stiffly, feeling the five hours of enforced sitting from his early morning flight. Every muscle in his back, ass and legs cramped. He rolled his head and heard his neck crack. God, he was getting fucking old.

He found his pants and pulled them on, walking out into the carpeted hall. There was no sound other than the whump of the furnace kicking on. Warm air blew across his bare feet from a base board vent. He jogged down the steps, stopping as he came into the living room. John Carter sat on the floor next to the coffee table. His head was bent over a book, a pad and pen lying next to him. He didn't look up as Walter came in and went from reading to making quick notes on the paper.

"John Carter." Walter spoke softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head turned and though there were still dark circles beneath his eyes, his smile was warm and his eyes bright, pleased.

"You're awake!"

"How observant." Walter couldn't help the grin that twisted at his mouth.

He went to John Carter and sat behind him on the couch, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head, his hands stroking thin shoulders and back. He had closed the book and Walter saw the title, "The Joy of Gay Sex." He looked at the note pad and saw that John Carter had written brief notes about certain positions, certain acts. There were stars next to some. There were two stars next to anal sex.

Walter felt a flush rise up from his groin across his chest and to his face. He pulled John Carter close, between his legs. He wrapped his arms around him, feeling the bony chest under the thin t-shirt. "What are you doing?"

John's hands stroked his arms, his head nestled back against Walter's abdomen. "Research."

"Un-huh."

There was a long silence in which they simply sat, touching gently. Then John Carter tilted his head back and looked up at Walter. "I don't want you to get bored," he said softly.

Walter kissed his forehead. "Not likely to happen."

John reached out and picked up the notepad. He held it up so that Walter could see it more clearly.

"What do the stars mean?" Walter asked quietly.

The pad trembled a little. John Carter cleared his throat. Then he sighed. "Things I want to try first."

"Two stars?"

A shorter silence then in an almost whisper. "Things I want to try again."

"Why?"

Walter felt his shrug. "Not good enough. Why?"

John Carter dropped the pad back on the table and covered his face with his hands. Walter pressed his face against the top of John's head. He would've sworn that he could feel the heat of John's blush.

"We didn't do it right that time."

Walter was glad that years of covering his emotions in meetings had given him such control. He held in his laugh, calmed his voice. "We didn't, huh?"

John took his hands from his face. He was still pink with embarrassment, but obviously determined. "We did it too fast. I was too tense. I didn't tell you when it hurt so that we could slow down. Mostly it was my fault."

Walter's hands moved under the t-shirt, found warm bare skin and went back to stroking. "I wasn't paying attention. I let it get away from me."

"It felt that good?" "God, yes," Walter answered, and he felt his penis stiffen with the memory of the heat and the tightness. He bit back the desire to groan.

"Have you ever…been the one…you know…."

"No."

John nodded. Walter used one hand to comb through the lanky hair on John Carter's head. It smelled of sweet shampoo. John raised his head a little, tilting forward to give Walter better access to the back of his head.

The words came out of his mouth before he had time to really think about them. "I'd like you to be the first."

There was a beat, then John spoke. "Really?"

"Yes." It was right. Walter realized he did want it. Wanted John Carter to understand it, the differences, the feeling of it.

"Besides, you know how to do it right. You can teach me." His voice was only slightly mocking. John Carter laughed.

Walter moved his hand from beneath John's t-shirt down past the waist of his pants. His penis was already hard when Walter's hand closed around it. John Carter gasped and raised his hips to push against Walter's grip.

"Now?" John Carter's voice was breathy and full of hope.

"Now." Walter answered.

He didn't release his grip, but instead opened John's pants so that when he stood they dropped, falling around his ankles. He stepped out of them and allowed Walter to lead him back upstairs, back to bed. The feel of hot flesh that was at once soft and very hard made Walter's own arousal greater.

Inside the bedroom Walter used his free hand to gather what they would need, lubricant, condoms, a small towel for afterwards. John Carter watched, remaining mostly still, his penis still in Walter's big hand.

"Where do you want me?" Walter asked. John Carter's eyes were almost black, his nipples tight dark buds on his chest, his testicles tight against his body. His skin was slightly flushed. He looked as though he was going to orgasm right then.

"Oh, God…" John's voice was raspy. "Uh…lie down on your back, across the bed."

Walter let go of John's penis and stretched out, his legs hanging off the side of the bed, feet almost touching the floor. His erection pointed up at his chest. "Like this?"

John Carter didn't seem to be able to answer. He nodded and knelt between Walter's legs. He started to take the erection in his mouth, but Walter's hands stopped him. "Use a condom." He wouldn't let John do that again. John took a condom from the box on the night stand, opened it and rolled it over Walter's penis, taking his time, stroking, teasing. He mouthed Walter's scrotum, using his lips and tongue to move the heavy testicles. Then he took the head and shaft in one quick swoop, swallowing it in a gulp of heat and wetness. Walter felt faint as blood rushed into his groin, his heart beating frantically to try to keep some flow going to his brain.

He could feel John's lips and nose against the base of his penis. Great God, when had the kid learned to do that? was his last coherent thought.

Before he could orgasm, John Carter took his mouth away and stripped off the condom. His penis felt the change from the heat inside John's mouth to the coolness of the room in dramatic fashion, his erection wilting some.

John Carter's mouth covered his. He tasted slightly of latex. One hand teased his nipples, another stroked the skin beneath his scrotum, touching lightly, moving little by little toward the cleft in his buttocks, to his anus. Finally he felt a finger rub the puckered rim, a feather touch so gentle but at the same time intensely stimulating. Every nerve in his body seemed to have heightened sensitivity. Every touch of John's hands, fingers, lips and tongue brought waves of pleasure.

When he thought he couldn't be aroused any further, he felt the cool touch of the gel against his anus. He closed his eyes and focused on the touch, feeling John's finger stroke around the opening, occasionally pressing gently against the opening, then withdrawing to only feather touch again. It seemed to go on forever, then he realized that each time John Carter pressed at the opening, his finger moved in a little further, gaining entrance to his body slowly, gently. He repeated the motions with two fingers, and once both were deep inside, he turned them, scissoring to relax the muscle, dragging them across the knot of nerves in his prostate. The bolt of electric heat shot up through his testicles and penis and straight up his spine to the top of his head all at once.

John Carter kissed him deeply, his tongue sweeping across the roof of his mouth, reaching back for his throat. He gasped for air when John finally pulled away. Distantly he was aware of the sound of a second condom being opened, then the coolness of the lubricant against his anus again. His legs were raised, calves across shoulders. A gentle pressure, then John Carter's sheathed penis stroking up against the perineum, then gentle pressure again. When the head of his penis finally pressed through the opening, stretching the sphincter wider, there was no pain at all.

Walter heard sounds that he knew were coming from his own throat, but he didn't try to make sense of any of them. It was more intense than he could have imagined, better than he would have ever believed. John Carter moved slowly, allowing him to adjust to the intrusion. The head of John's penis nudged and stroked the prostate and Walter knew he was gibbering, making nonsense sounds of pleasure.

He felt John Carter's testicles against his buttocks, his wiry pubic hair against his scrotum. John took his penis in his slickened hand and began to pump it in rhythm to the gentle grinding of his hips.

Walter opened his eyes and saw John Carter's face. His eyes closed in concentration, his mouth open with desire. His nipples were hard points against the flushed skin of his chest. He looked beautiful. That was the only word to describe it.

Walter reached out and grabbed John Carter's free hand, taking it from where it rested on the bed beside his hip, making John open his eyes and look at him. He wondered if his eyes were as dark with lust as John's.

He took a ragged breath. "Yours," he said.

John's eyes widened with surprise, and then it was too late. He threw his head back as his orgasm began, his focus broken, his control gone. Walter felt him pulse and his own orgasm was triggered, ejaculating hot semen over John Carter's hand, onto his own belly and chest.

John collapsed against him. Walter's heartbeat was so rapid he wondered for a moment if it would ever slow. Finally it did and they pulled apart. John Carter using the towel to wipe them both somewhat clean, then crawling up onto the bed next to Walter, curling around his body, holding him close.

"Yours, too," John Carter whispered, his lips against Walter's ear.

Walter laid one large hand against John Carter's head, holding it close, feeling John's breath against the side of his face. It was regular, slow, deep. Walter allowed himself to drift into sleep, too.


End file.
